Christmas for Horatio
by The Cowgirl Bookworm
Summary: Horatio Caine finally gets to experience a happy Christmas thank to his girlfriend. Part of Time To Heal. Takes place after Repairing the Present. Oneshot.


Horatio Caine had never really loved Christmas. Oh sure, he enjoyed the songs, the lights, the sweets that were advertised in grocery stores. He found solace in the kindness of people during this time of year, the charity that was displayed to everyone and everything. Winter in Miami consisted of a large influx of tourists, palm trees decorated with lights to look like candy canes, and enough violence to satiate some ancient war god.

No matter where he turned, it seemed he always faced a stabbing, verbal assault, or even a murder. The police department was always in a flurry, chasing down different cases while working on the ones that had been left over. He himself ran from one end of Miami to the other, finding subjects and evidence. He often found himself arriving exhausted in the apartment he shared with his girlfriend, Laila Collins.

She herself fared no better during this time of year. All sorts of businesses were clamoring for advertisements, from local boutiques to a few of the department stores. He often found her patiently typing and clicking away on her laptop, secreted back in the reading area of their apartment. She stayed up long after he went to bed, and he was often greeted in the morning with her working. She tried to make them meals, but take out was making a larger appearance in their diet.

He noticed bags beginning to appear beneath her eyes, and he had a feeling that she noticed the same in him. They were both working themselves hard, and Horatio had not truly spared a thought about shopping for presents. It wasn't that he didn't have the time, he could spend a few hours at the mall, but that he dreaded it. He avoided the mall, filled with housewives pushing strollers, sticky toddlers wailing their heads off, and harried husbands trying to figure out what to buy their wives. But one night, after telling Laila that he would be home late, Horatio strengthened himself, said a quick prayer for protection, and ventured in.

He stopped by a department store, found a few necklaces that straddled the line between gaudy and barely there. He stopped by a deserted perfume station, found a scent that he particularly enjoyed, and made his purchases. Then it was out into the mall proper. The line to see Santa stretched throughout the mall. He quickly found that people did not watch where they walked, at all. He avoided a woman who was carrying enough bags to take up twice her usual space. He wandered, trying to avoid stressed out fathers dragging their squalling children.

They brought out bad memories, memories that he tried to repress. He only caught flashes this time, a burning slap across his cheek after he had dropped a present, his mother screaming at his father to stop, just please stop, and a bottle flying across the room to shatter on the wall and into his hair. His closed his eyes and shook his head. Not now, now he was in a better place. It was just this place, it had to be. The stress was rolling off of everyone else and onto him. He took a deep breath in. He pictured Laila, tired, overworked, but still happy. Still greeted him with a smile when he came home, kissed him before bed, and saw him off everyday with a whispered 'I love you'.

She would change it, change the chagrin he always faced Christmas with. With her and his team, he was far away from New York and the past that held him. Now, like most people who flocked to Miami, he could be free. He could leave his past, leave all the negatives that had held him down. Laila had tried to get him to, talked and coaxed and finally convinced him not to guilt himself over every single occurrence. But he held onto a few of them, a guilt that would ground him and allow him to realize exactly what he had now, and that he should fight for what he had, even if he had to fight himself.

Horatio looked around the mall, trying to figure out exactly where he should go. He walked to bookstores, jewelry boutiques, anything he could think of. Finally, he stood before it, the bane of masculinity. Victoria's Secret, the doors manned by posters of scantily clad women. He found that he wasn't alone when he stepped in, there were other men shuffling around, confused and slightly intimidated by the lacy undergarments.

"Hi do you need any help?" A perky salesgirl asked. Horatio looked around, then shook his head. She moved on to the next customer walking in, leaving Horatio to peruse the merchandise. He found a bin full of bras, that were truthfully little more than bits of lace sewn together. He picked one up, hoping that it was in Laila's size. He suddenly turned his head, the salesgirl was back. "Is that the right size?"

"Um," He thought out loud, "I don't know."

"Oh, that's perfectly fine. I can help you with everything." The salesgirl laughed, then went on to ask him questions about Laila's bust in perfectly polite terms. They may have been modest and clean, but Horatio could still feel a little heat in his chest. She finally found the right size, and set him up with a matching pair of panties. He shifted the bright pink bag around, trying to find a place where it could be inconspicuous.

He decided to finish all his shopping tonight, he couldn't fathom doing this again. It was exhausting, but when he finally left the last store he felt better. It was done, he wouldn't have to deal with any more hectic crowds. As he was leaving, he saw a table set off to the side of a walkway. Two older ladies manned it, with a guide dog lying beside tim. The table was covered in wrapping paper of every color, ribbons and bows piled up high. He glanced at the side, at a placard proclaiming that they would wrap gifts and all the money would go to service animal programs. He stepped up to the table.

"Hello there." One of the women said. "Would you like us to wrap those for you?"

"Sure," Horatio said, surrendering the bags to them. "Have you guys been busy?"

"We've had quite the crowd." The woman sounded proud, "We'll have these ready in no time." The women set to work, and Horatio was glad that they knew what they were doing. He sure as hell didn't. He kneeled down to look at the service dog.

"Hey, girl." He whispered, scratching her ears. The Golden Retriever gave him a quiet whine, her tail finding a position where it could wag and not get in the way. Horatio withdrew his hand for a moment, and she promptly attacked it with kisses. He gave a quiet chuckle, and spent the rest of the time that the ladies were working giving the old girl a little more attention. When he stood up, he was met with a variety of packages, all wrapped crisply. Some had bows, others had ribbons, but they were all better than what he would have done. He pulled two hundred-dollar bills from his wallet and handed them to the ladies.

"Oh, son you don't need to do that." One lady protested. "Spend that on your wife."

"We're not married." Horatio sheepishly admitted. "Please, take it."

"Still, you should keep that. You'll never know when you might see some ring that she might like." The little old lady held up her hand. "Keep the money."

"I don't need it." Horatio laid it on the table, grinning at the service dog down below. "She does. I want that money to take care of her and her friends."

"Bless you." The lady finally huffed, taking the money and locking it in their little till. "Have a merry Christmas." Horatio wished her the same, gave one last pet to the dog, and left. He drove home, glad that he had paid for the wrapping when he walked in. Laila was standing on a chair, a Santa hat fixed firmly on her head as she decorated the seven foot pine tree that currently occupied a corner of the living area. It was already wrapped in lights, and she was hanging ornaments from its branches. She was singing along with a song playing over the radio, which was hooked up to her own iPod.

"_Ho, ho, ho and a bottle of rum_  
_Santa's run off to the Caribbean_  
_Marimbas, calimbas, he playing steel drums_  
_Ho, ho, ho and a bottle of rum_"

He closed the door, drawing her attention. She smiled, and suddenly Horatio didn't notice how her shoulders shrugged slightly, how her eyes seemed tired. All he could focus on was the light in her eyes, the delighted laugh she gave at seeing him, and the smell of freshly baked cookies and fudge that was wafting towards him from the kitchen. He set the bags down, lifting her off the chair.

"Horatio, I was worried." She laughed, giggling when he set her down.

"Didn't seem that way to me." He muttered, kissing her lightly.

"I hide my fear with singing." Laila declared, grabbing his hand to drag him to the kitchen. She must have been working all day, baking and getting the tree. He looked around the living area, noticing little touches of the Christmas season. Reindeer figurines were placed on the coffee table, a little Christmas village had popped up along the counter that faced out into living room. Laila reached up, grabbed his chin, and turned his face so he would look at the cookies. "Try these. Old family recipe, I call them crack cookies because they're so addicting." Horatio gave her a knowing look, but popped one in. It was sweet, and the chocolate chips were melty from the oven.

"They are good." He told her, snagging a piece of fudge from the tray next to them. It was dark chocolate with a layer of peanut butter beneath. It was so sweet and rich he felt his teeth ache.

"Hey, hold up there." Laila jokingly said. "Save some for Santa." Horatio cocked his head, a smirk on his face. She only giggled, again. He walked over to the entryway and collected the bag full of presents. He then began to place them over the quilted tree skirt, admiring the careful stitching. Considering he had never seen Laila sew, he assumed her mother had made it for her.

"Do I even want to know how you got this tree in here?" He grunted from his place.

"Oh, Mark, David, and I always go get trees together. They helped me bring it in." She replied, joining him on the ground. She began to pass him presents, ocassionaly shaking a few or running her fingers down the side as if to divine what exactly they were. Horatio knew Mark and David, a couple from down the hall. He had only passed them in the hall, but they seemed nice enough. He did not begrudge them their lifestyle, everyone deserved to be happy.

"I didn't know that." He mumbled, rising from the floor.

Laila looked down, a slight blush on her cheeks. "I guess we haven't really talked much since all of this," a vague gesture of her hands, "began."

"Work, it tends to increase around this time of year," Horatio nodded. "For both of us." He stepped towards her, then pulled her into his arms. He could feel her forehead brushing against his chest, and he could see the edges of her lips twinge up in a smile. A new song began to play on the radio, an old Sinatra tune.

"_You make me feel so young  
You make me feel like spring has sprung  
Every time I see you grin  
I'm such a happy, individual_"

He grinned, how did she know that he loved old songs like this. He turned their little hug into slow, swaying dance. It didn't really fit the upbeat, swing tempo of the song, but it allowed him to hold her closer. He felt a chilly breeze swirl around their legs, cold air coming off of the ocean. It only made her seem all that warmer though, made her shiver slightly and press herself closer to him.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

Over the next few days, he tried to get home a little earlier. He saw Laila spending less time on her laptop, whether from a lighter work load or a desire to spend time with him, he wasn't sure. Soon enough it was Christmas Eve, and the little pile of gifts around the tree had grown. She had convinced him to sit down for a series of Christmas movies, ranging from the old Rankin-Bass specials to recent Christmas releases-she had a particular love for a certain Will Ferrell one- she had plied him with cookies, and soon enough he fell sleepily into bed. As they lay in that wintry darkness, he felt the bed give a little, her stepping out. Her bare feet made hardly any noise as she slipped into the bathroom, and then reemerged. _She's sneaking._ The pitter-patter of her feet disappeared through the door, before she finally lay back down.

Horatio got his chance in the morning, waking before she did. He had stashed a few presents beneath the bed, which he now brought out and placed underneath the tree. Laila came out soon after, rubbing her eyes and yawning. Presents were unwrapped happily, and he was happy. That was how he felt right now, happy. He was happy when he unwrapped a new blazer, he was happy when Laila cooed excitedly over a book.

"Oh my," Laila said, peeking into the conspicuous pink bag. "Quite the imagination you have there." Horatio suddenly found himself unable to speak, only to grin, a bit of a blush rising to his cheeks.

"Merry Christmas." He stated, reaching for her hand. She smiled and gave it.

"Merry Christmas Horatio." She replied.

It was indeed a merry Christmas.

* * *

**AN: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everybody! I hope you enjoyed this little holiday romp, and I have a book recommendation to make. A very good, very well written book in the CSI:Miami series. It's called Harm for the Holidays: Misgivings. The author writes very well and has a very good grip on how Horatio functions. If you can read it I would definitely recommend it.**

**-The Cowgirl Bookworm**


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